


Unknowns and Certainties

by alterai



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alterai/pseuds/alterai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz comes to terms with a tough decision. <em>Ending scene, season 1 finale. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Unknowns and Certainties

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Shirin for the fantastic beta work!

“Hey, you mind?”

The thump of a hand on top of the car dashboard broke her focus. Liz drew her attention away from the window to meet the cab driver’s glance in the rearview mirror and saw him tapping a finger impatiently against the radio. She shook her head at the man.

The radio cranked to life seconds later, and Liz cringed a little at the bass booms that suddenly poured through the speakers. It seemed like the cabbie had finally given up on engaging her in conversation and she couldn’t really blame him. She had stuck to mostly monosyllabic answers during the drive, preferring instead to watch the blur of scenery slip past the window.

But when the static crackle and intermittent blasts of music finally settled on the smooth instrumentals and low tenors of old classics, she had to smile. The music was reminiscent of a different era altogether. If she closed her eyes she could almost picture the dim lighting and smoky aura that permeated the room - a piano bar or jazz lounge of some sort - and the music cutting through clear as glass.

It wasn’t a stretch to imagine it as the sort of place Red would frequent. She could see him there too, hidden away at a corner table with his fedora perched low on his head, cigar in hand and a tumbler of scotch sitting within easy reach.

The cab was headed towards the large estate owned by one of Red’s acquaintances. They had to be less than half an hour out by now, and Liz wished she had a bit more time to settle the sudden well of anxiety that pressed up as they neared their destination.

She thought she had made the right decision earlier, choosing to walk away from him and putting an end to…whatever this was between them. Ever since Red had entered the picture, her life had been utter chaos – a complete upheaval of everything she had known. She had lost both her father and her husband in a span of months, and Red was, in no small way, responsible for all of it.

He had called Sam one of his oldest friends, and she was sure that at least in this, he was telling the truth. But she was still trying to reconcile her image of her father’s friend - the Red who had not hesitated to protect her on multiple counts heedless of any danger to himself – to the man that had taken Sam’s life and robbed her of the chance to say goodbye. Red was a killer, and she could never forget that.

So when he had given her an out, she’d grabbed for it, an all but instinctive reaction. It was a chance to have her life back, to grasp at the semblance of normalcy that she had been trying to salvage ever since an armed entourage had shown up outside her home to escort her to work, her first day.

When she’d returned to her apartment, empty of furniture and all signs that she and Tom had inhabited there for the year past, she finally had to allow herself to accept that she didn’t have a ‘normal’ anymore. _That_ was the glaring truth she had managed to push to the back of her mind in the wake of Berlin’s escape and the events that had followed.

If she had only wanted answers, she probably could have found it in her to let it go, in exchange for an escape from the insanity that was Red’s presence in her life.

But the thought of going back to the empty apartment and back to her job at the FBI as if nothing at all had happened, without Red’s impromptu visits and unreasonable demands for her time and attention – trying to forget his presence in her life entirely – she didn’t think she could do it.

Liz was long past denying to herself that Red made her feel safe. Despite everything he’s put her through, he cared about her. It was the one thing she could be certain of right now. He’s somehow become the only known variable in her life. God, the irony.

She glanced down and touched the scar on her wrist. She remembered him wanting to see it, the first time they met. The scar was immensely personal, and not something she would easily show anyone, let alone a criminal with a firmly entrenched position on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. It had been beyond presumptuous of him, to have asked to see it as if he had an unquestionable right. As if he _knew_ her.

But they’d come a long way since the uneasy standoff of that first meeting. It used to frustrate her to have no choice but to talk to him, backed into a corner as they were with the cases he insisted they investigate. Civilian lives and national security being his two favorite bargaining chips.

She understood him a little better now, which isn’t to say she knew him well at all. But, enough to find that she didn’t so much mind spending time with him working the cases anymore. Even if it was still occasionally infuriating that he held so many of the cards while the FBI were left scrambling with the cryptic hints he doled out on a whim.

There were still so many ways he could have used the cases as leverage, so it had surprised her that he’d been willing to leave in the end, for her sake.

She recalled the look in his eyes earlier when she’d given him her response, the brief flash of disappointment at her decision before it disappeared behind an inscrutable mask of affected indifference. Liz hadn’t been on the receiving end of that look from him for a long time, and she regretted having brought it forth.  

Red had seemed resigned to her decision, and hadn’t tried to argue with her beyond that. Had tried to reassure her even, but it was an empty, hollow sort of smile that he’d given her, as if he wasn’t sure himself which of them he was reassuring.

It was this, more than anything, that had compelled her to return. She couldn’t forget it, the way he’d watched her steadily as they said their goodbyes earlier, the gentle weight of his hand at her back as he’d walked her out to the car. He had held the door open for her, then stood back to watch with his hat hanging loose from his fingers as the car pulled away.

She couldn’t help glancing back before the house had fully retreated from view. He was still there in the distance, just watching, and her chest had clenched at the sight. She’d almost wavered then.

But she’d forced her eyes away to face the front, had refrained from asking the driver to turn the car around, to ask him to stay. Some persistently stubborn part of herself had been determined not to let Red interfere in her life again.

Unfortunately – or was it fortunately? – she didn’t have the strongest track record when it came to listening to that voice of reason.

Back alone in her apartment, she cleared out the last of her belongings, going through old, faded photographs of her and Sam. She tried unsuccessfully to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach that she’d made a mistake in letting Red leave. She wanted to keep hating him for his part in her father’s death, but she would be lying if she told herself she couldn’t see that Red was hurting too.

So here they were again. Liz smoothed out the brightly-colored bracelet she still wore. The plastic charms jangled soundlessly against each other, vying for attention.

The estate was far enough from the capital itself that the roads here were wide, the cars few, and trees blocked her view instead of buildings. She strained for a glimpse through the branches and thought she recognized some of the residences they passed.

Slowing down, the driver made a turn onto a narrow side lane, pavement crunching under the tires. The cab made its way up the long, familiar driveway until the house – mansion, really – finally came into view. She could see Red’s car parked out front. As the cab pulled up, the front door opened and Red walked out carrying his packed bags.

He was really leaving.

Her mouth felt suddenly dry. If she’d been only a few minutes later, she wouldn’t have been in time to catch him before he disappeared from her life entirely.

Red had noticed them by now and came towards the cab. She got out of the car to meet him, taking a few steps forward and stopping when he did. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, but Liz took note of that look on his face – a relief so sharp it hurt to look at.

If she ever needed tangible evidence of how much she meant to him, here it was. But, she’s known already, long before this.

“Lizzie.” He came forward, uncharacteristically hesitant in his approach. She saw him glance once at the cab idling behind them, wary. She realized that he might perceive it as a convenient exit option, and that hadn’t been her intention at all.

When he was close enough, he reached down for her hand and took it in his, a quiet touch, allowing plenty of room for her to draw back. His thumb grazed over the back of her knuckles and Liz was struck again by the protectiveness in his gesture.

“Well, this is quite a surprise.” Red angled his head to look at her. “Did you change your mind, Lizzie?”

She didn’t immediately reply. There were a dozen responses she could give. Explanations, half-truths, and justifications all came to mind, and she wasn’t sure which one he’d want to hear. Did she know the right answer herself?

She settled for a simple, “Yes,” and squeezed his hand. Red nodded, almost as if to himself, but he didn’t let go.

She was glad for the contact. It felt like an anchor, solidly reliable. Reassuring. She felt her doubts slowly subside.

In the end, it didn’t matter, all the different reasons she had for wanting him here. What mattered was that her decision had finally felt right.

This felt right.


End file.
